


on an empty stomach and no sleep

by sarahyyy



Series: Dispute Resolution Verse [2]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Getting Together, M/M, this is so self-indulgent i am so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4164534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyyy/pseuds/sarahyyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I need to make a living too, Enjolras,” he says, but there’s no heat in his voice, and he knows even as the words come out from him that he’s pretty much already going to say yes to Enjolras. So much for showing Enjolras that he isn’t a pushover. “What’s going to happen to me if I don’t get enough billable hours? Who’s going to pay my staff? Who’s going to pay my rent? How will I be able to put food on my table?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	on an empty stomach and no sleep

Enjolras slides into the booth opposite him in the café he regularly has lunch in, and Grantaire groans and says, “Nope, nope, nope. Do not even try, Enjolras.”

“Just think about it-” Enjolras starts, looking determined, and yes, it is a good look on him, and yes, maybe Grantaire is a sucker for that look on Enjolras, but he can’t have Enjolras thinking that he’s a pushover.

“I need to make a living too, Enjolras,” he says, but there’s no heat in his voice, and he knows even as the words come out from him that he’s pretty much already going to say yes to Enjolras. So much for showing Enjolras that he isn’t a pushover. “What’s going to happen to me if I don’t get enough billable hours? Who’s going to pay my staff? Who’s going to pay my rent? How will I be able to put food on my table?”

The waitress comes and sets Enjolras’ plate of pasta in front of him just then, and Enjolras smiles at her as he thanks her. He turns the same smile at Grantaire innocently when the waitress leaves their booth. He’s obviously trying to soften Grantaire so that Grantaire will be more agreeable, and Grantaire shouldn’t find that as adorable as he does.

“ _Enjolras_ ,” Grantaire says, and he sounds pained, even to himself.

Enjolras must misinterpret something in his tone, because he goes all defensive. “You know it’s not fair to not even give it a shot. Madame Simplice can’t afford the lawsuit, and if you won’t even give her a viable alternative when one does exist-”

“Legal aid,” Grantaire chimes in in the well-worn tones of someone who has had the same argument one too many times. 

“A _non-litigative_ alternative which sees that both parties enter into a negotiation which could settle all their problems at a fraction of the hassle,” Enjolras shoots back, in the same tone. He arches his eyebrow at the end of the sentence, as if daring Grantaire to deny the truth behind his words.

Grantaire sighs. They’ve done this enough times for him to know to just skip right to the inevitable end of the conversation. “You need to stop sourcing your cases from me,” he tells Enjolras. “You’re going to leech me dry.”

It’s not a no and Enjolras can tell that too, so he just beams at Grantaire and digs into his food.

Grantaire just sighs loudly and tries to tell himself that one day he’ll stop being such a sucker for making Enjolras happy. It’s evidently not going to be today, but someday very soon, he’s going to build up enough immunity against the force of Enjolras’ smile, and he’ll stop doing stupid things like encouraging his clients to consider mediation instead of being a good lawyer who recognises billable hours when they’re right in front of him.

Enjolras kicks him under the table and he looks up from his food. Enjolras looks tentative now, a far cry from the smug, happy expression he was wearing just moments before. 

“It’s not that bad, is it?” Enjolras asks, and then tucks a stray curl behind his ear. “I mean, I know my last four cases were your cases originally, but I only asked you to try mediation out first because it would’ve resulted in a win-win situation for both parties. I’m not trying to-” He shifts around in his seat, uncomfortable, and lets the sentence go unfinished. “It’s not that bad, is it?” he settle for repeating.

Grantaire snorts. “I don’t know. I haven’t had the heart to look at the books yet this month,” he tells Enjolras, meaning it as a jest, but Enjolras frowns at that, and sets his fork down.

“I’m sorry,” Enjolras says. “I’m really not trying to poach all your clients-”

“Just the ones who could really do with some help,” Grantaire finishes for him. “I know. I wouldn’t have let you keep doing it after that first time if I didn’t agree with you,” he says, voice gentle, because Enjolras seems to genuinely be feeling bad about this. He cracks a wry smile. “I was joking about business being bad. I’ve got a lot of those big bad corporations you hate a lot paying me yearly retainer fees. The firm will live.”

“And you?” Enjolras asks, lips curving up.

“I might have to go hungry every once a week, but I’ll be fine,” Grantaire replies dryly. “Your food’s going cold.”

“Get dinner with me tonight,” Enjolras says, instead of going back to his much-neglected pasta.

Grantaire doesn’t choke on air, but only barely. He arches his eyebrow. “I was joking about not being able to afford food, Enjolras,” he says.

“I know you are,” Enjolras tells him, rolling his eyes. “I’m asking you out.”

“On a date?” Grantaire asks, incredulous. 

“On a date,” Enjolras confirms, nodding.

“If you’ll recall, the last time we tried that, it didn’t really work out well,” Grantaire says, and that’s an understatement, really, because they’d spent the first half of the date Courfeyrac set them up on awkwardly making small talk, and the other half of it arguing wildly about whether or not mediation should be a mandatory process before litigation.

“I didn’t know you then,” Enjolras says. “I do now, and I’d like to keep getting to know you better.”

Grantaire swallows. “You’re just into me for my cases,” he says weakly, because whilst he’s a brilliant litigator in court who knows how to deal with the unexpected, out here, with Enjolras, he doesn’t really know how to react beyond defaulting back to asshole mode.

Thankfully Enjolras only rolls his eyes and says, “You don’t really think so, and if you do, you’re allowed to say no. I’m not forcing you to say yes, and I promise that I won’t be weird about it if you say no.” He flashes a tiny smile at Grantaire. “I’d like a second chance, though. I think we could be great together.”

“There’s this Italian place I’ve been wanting to try out,” Grantaire offers. “But you’re paying for dinner. I find myself suddenly short of at least forty billable hours.”

Enjolras grins at that. “The mediation might not work out,” he reminds Grantaire. “There’s always a chance it’ll fail and the clients will jump back into litigation.”

“Not when you’re the mediator,” Grantaire says, and it’s true. “You’re brilliant at it. You’re the best I’ve ever seen.”

Enjolras blushes at that, actually blushes, as if no-one has ever taken the time to say that to him before, and then leans across the table, as far as he can go without leaving his seat, and says softly, as if he’s telling Grantaire a secret, “I’d really like to kiss you.”

Grantaire grins at that and leans in, dropping his voice to match Enjolras’, and says, “Well, what’s stopping you?”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Frank Turner's _Once We Were Anarchist_ , which was on loop the whole time I was writing this. I'm meant to be writing a Jurisprudence essay. /o\
> 
> I'm [here on Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sarah-yyy), come say hi!


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